Down the Plot Hole
by Malteaser
Summary: AKA: We loved your show SyFy, but parts of it just made no sense. NOW COMPLETE  Although requests for further plot hole fills will be taken.
1. Dyeing For Your Country

_AKA: What the heck was up with Jack's hair?_

Jack's instructions upon leaving Wonderland were simple: directions to a set of public lockers in a subway station. The directions attached to the bag found inside those lockers were even more simple: enter the bathroom, sit down in a stall, and read the further instructions found in the envelope in the front compartment.

Then things began to get more complicated.

For starters, the toilet was disgusting, and after wiping the seat down half a dozen times with the tissue paper he was still loathe to sit down on the seat and sully his trousers. For seconds, once he had managed that, he had trouble finding the envelope with the instructions on it. And once he had found that, he had trouble trying to keep them all straight. The license in the wallet with his picture on it, for example, did not mean he should drive a car as was stated, but was rather to be used as a form of identification should the need arise. For transportation, he could take the subway, for which a metro card was provided, or a taxi, for which there was no card, but were bits of paper money. He could also use the plastic card marked 'Visa' for purchasing goods or services; he was not to confuse this with his visa, which went along with his passport in the job of assuring people that he was in this country legally. He had a cell phone, which came with its own booklet of hopelessly complex instructions, with which he could contact the Resistance or they could contact him. It was recommended that he not give his number out to just anyone, which was fortunate as he hadn't the slightest idea what it was. His apartment could be accessed with the key found dangling off the side of the wallet, next to the bit of plastic stamped with the Jack of Hearts. Jack rolled his eyes at that. Someone was having a bit of a laugh at his expense. He thought it might be the same person who decided that he should go by the name "Chase" in this world.

He sighed. Well, they'd certainly fulfilled their part of the bargain, whoever they were. He was out, out of Wonderland, out of the Court, out from underneath his mother's thumb. He was willing to give who had made that possible a chance to tease him from afar if that's what they wanted.

He was _not_, however, going to wear this hat for any prolonged length of time.

The instructions had explained that his hair was an unusual color for this world, which would make the job of anyone searching for him that much easier. He was advised to keep it covered, and provided with a bowler cap for just such a purpose. There was no getting around it; it looked ridiculous on him. Most hats did; he simply didn't have the right shaped head for anything that didn't come with an exceptionally large brim.

After several useless minutes spent fiddling with it in front of a looking glass- no, not a looking glass, a mirror- he sighed and gave it up as a bad job. He'd have to wear it for now, but as soon as he could, he was going to ditch it in favor of a more lasting solution. Oysters had potions to change to color of their hair, didn't they? He'd just have to use one of those. _Anything_, but this hat.


	2. New Math

_AKA Does ten and ten equal twenty-three in Wonderland? And, additionally, what's up with the study that terrified Alice so much?_

What it boiled down to was this: by the time Alice turns thirteen, they no longer had the funds to keep the house. The little yellow house, with Dinah's grave in the backyard and the memories of Dad clinging to every surface. She's not happy: she's not even close to being happy, but she is trying to be an adult. She is trying to be mature. She doesn't complain about the move, about leaving behind her friends, about having to start over. She knows it isn't any easier on her mother than it is on her, so she tries to help.

Which is why, when Mom is busy ironing out the details with her work for longer hours, she drags a bunch of empty boxes into the study.

She takes care of the solid stuff; the collection of ships in bottles, the plastic Godzilla, the books. She wraps up the fragile items with care and stacks the books so they won't be bent when they're finally able to be unpacked. Then she begins on the papers.

She doesn't know what is important and what is it: they're all very much official looking, with the names of different universities (or government agencies, or think tanks) stamped along the bottom and words with five or six syllables in them sprinkled liberally about. She ends up sorting them by subject: psychiatry in the one, finance in the two, and personal in the three.

This is how she finds the papers from the detectives. The private eyes. The insurance company. They people who have a vested interest in finding out whether her father is dead, and what he was up to if he's alive.

To her very great shock, he is alive. He is.

The detectives had received a tip about a man matching Robert Hamilton's description boarding a train. The insurance company had found that he had purchased tickets to Buenos Aires, Hong Kong, and Prague. The private detectives had found no trace of him in either city, something Alice will later cling to, but for now…

She had thought he was dead. If they could not find you within a year, you were made legally dead, and after the year had passed, after another March 23 came and went, she had figured that was it. Her father was dead, taken from them, likely a victim of some random, violent act. She would never see him again because he was no longer possible to see.

But he is not dead. And no one told her.

She doesn't hear her mother pull into the driveway, or come through the front door, and her call upon finding Alice in the study doesn't register until Mom's arms are around her.

"Dad's alive," Alice mumbles, turning slighting to return the embrace. "He just left."

"I know," Mom replies. "I know. I'm so sorry, baby. You don't deserve this."

The assurance strikes her as odd, and then she wonders if Mom might possibly be telling her another lie, something to soothe the ache of reality. Maybe she does deserve this. Maybe it's her fault.

She can't know that, however. Not from her mother, who loves her enough to try and create her own little bubble of falsehood for her to live in. The only person who can tell her is the man who is not at home, or in Buenos Aires, or Hong Kong, or Prague.

She'll spend the next ten years trying to get her answer.


	3. Italian American Sauced Bread

**A/N: I originally posted this to the wrong story! I caught it quickly, but I'd like to apologize for any confusion it may have caused. Thanks to those of you who reviewed or added me to their alerts, it means a lot!**

_AKA: How does Hatter know about pizza?_

After they managed to escape Dodo, they took a roundabout way back to the shop. Not as in 'let's go round this tree for a while', although there was some of that, thank you Alice, but their overall route was tangled and twisted upon itself like a bowl full of worms. With a little luck, whoever Dodo sent after him would think they were heading for the fourth aqueduct tunnel and the southern countryside, as opposed to right back off home.

What he quickly realized was that this route, while carefully planned to throw off their scent, also would pose a pretty big problem for someone with a "heights thing". As this someone was also capable of throwing him over his shoulder and held the key to overthrowing the Queen once and for all, he quickly realized that he would need a plan.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before one presented itself to him, complete with carnations and a "how-do-you-do'.

"Is there something wrong with building a city at ground level?" Alice asked, strained, as Hatter began to walk across one of the bridges which linked the different ridges around the buildings.

"Generally speaking, I suppose not," Hatter admitted, reaching back to offer her his hand. He'd pull the trick with walking backwards and telling her to focus on his handsome face rather than the possibility of a sudden drop, but what with the lack of walls, he was pretty sure that would end in him suddenly dropping. Which would defeat the purpose of pretty much everything in his life. "It doesn't work to well here, though. This city's built on the bluffs, they aren't exactly on the level."

"Ha ha," Alice replied, deadpan. Hatter smiled. He'd always liked that pun.

"Besides, it's convenient," Hatter added.

"Convenient?" Alice repeated in a scandalized tone as they stepped onto the next ridge. Hatter gestured towards the corner: there was a ladder by the side they would use to climb up three stories, before crossing another bridge.

"Yes, convenient," Hatter replied. "I've read about your cities, you know. If you want to get from the fortieth floor of one building to the fortieth floor of the next you have to go all the way down to the first and then back up again. In this city, if there isn't a bridge on that floor, then it's on one within five stories of it."

"Yes, but in my world there's less of a chance of falling to your death," Alice retorted. "Not to mention, public transportation? The entire time I've been here I haven't seen anyone used anything other than those flying beetle things-"

"Scarab," Hatter corrected.

"Flying beetle things! And those seem to be mostly used by the guys who stole my boyfriend, so."

"So what?"

"So my way is better."

Hatter laughed as he began to climb. "You only say that because of your heights thing. I bet if I went to your city, I'd hate it."

"I bet you wouldn't," Alice fired back.

"Keep in mind that, as a regular bandersnatch, I like heights," Hatter told her. "What is there in your world that I would like better than this one?"

She was silent for long enough that Hatter began to get worried that he would have to find another topic to distract her with. And then she spoke: "Pizza."

"Piz- wha?" Hatter asked.

"Pizza," Alice said firmly. "You don't have pizza in this world, do you?"

"I dunno," Hatter said."What's pizza?"

"First, you take some dough," Alice said. "And you flatten it out a bit, and spin it in the air so that it's in a circular shape. Then you put it in the oven until the edges start turning brown, and spread on some tomato sauce normally it's got some herbs in it like basil. You cover it with cheese and these little round slices of meat called pepperoni and throw it all in the oven again until the cheese melts. You take it out, cut it into triangles, and enjoy it."

Hatter nodded as he helped Alice up off the ladder.

"It's perfect comfort food," she insisted.

"I'm sure," he replied, holding the truth closer than his stubble. Alice rolled her eyes.

"Really," Alice said. "It's not home without it."

Her voice dropped in volume towards the end. Hatter turned around.

"Oi, what's that look for?" he said. "I told you I'm going to get you home, and I'm going to get you home."

"Yeah, I haven't heard so much of the how yet," Alice said, skeptically.

Hatter snorted. Say what you want about the state of Wonderland you were probably right- but don't insult his professionalism. If he said he would do something, then he'd do it. When were people going to learn to trust him when it came to the job?

He began to walk along the ridge. Alice followed, one hand skimming the wall. "The Looking Glass is the only way to get you back home," he reminded her. "And it's here in the city, but it's the most heavily guarded piece of kit in Wonderland…"


	4. The Lone Knight

AKA How exactly did Charlie assemble the stick army so quickly?

"Galadoon… De Booshe!" Charlie cried again, focusing all his willpower, all his desperate need, on the Red King who sat on the throne before him, still stubbornly dead. Nothing. He mustered up whatever courage and hope he possessed, and tried a seventeenth time.

"Galadoon… De Booshe!"

Still nothing. Not a stir in the breeze, not a creak in the woods.

He closed his eyes; he heard the screams of Just Alice and her Harbinger as they tried to fight off their attackers, while he ran away, blending seamlessly with the sounds of the Knight's last battle.

"**GALADOON… DE BOOSHE!" **

An almighty wind swept up, nearly knocking him flat on his back and pinning him to the earth. He struggled to his feet again as it died down. The Red King was still in his throne, still dead, still unmoving, but from behind him there was a clattering, clanking noise.

He turned around. Sir Roderick- or- more accurately, his skeleton, still clothed in his battle dress and wielding his sword stood behind him on legs that were made entirely of bone. He gestured soundlessly towards the old road that had once connected the Realm of the Grand Chess Alliance with that of the Kingdom of Hearts. Feeling slightly light-headed, he followed.

They were joined by still more Knights as they walked. Without facial features to go by, he recognized them only by their armor: Sir Hamlin, Madam Jape, Sir Wan, Madam Ume, Madam Kaleen, Sir Devon, Madam Grey…

They came to the place where the road was, in ill repair and hardly ever used, only to find that it was swarming with newly-risen Knights and their equipment, all heading west. There were, if he were to guess, about a thousand of them. He had not bought the entire army back then- that would have numbered closer to nine thousand- but, from all appearances, he had bought back his old brilliancy.

He swallowed, turning to face the Knights.

"I ran," he said, painfully. "I ran when I should have stayed and fought, twice now, which is a dishonor I will never be able to completely remove. But I intended to, at the very least try to set right what I can. Can I stand with you?"

There was another wind, not nearly as fierce as the first but every bit as strange, which carried the words to his ears: _"We will stand with you as long as we are able."_

"Thank you," Charlie replied, and together they joined the brilliancy for the march to the Casino. It was a short march, something for which Charlie was profoundly grateful, as they were slowed by the heavy, long-distance bows and the smaller stride of the squires he could see darting about.

They had thought it was a grand adventure, Charlie remembered. He, Jules, and Kara were going to help the White Knight save Wonderland from the Queen and be home in time for tea and biscuits. Chocolate biscuits.

He would have to find some of those to give to Hatter when this was over, as an apology for his cowardice. After all, a hero of Wonderland deserved no less than chocolate biscuits, did he not? That was what the three of them had decided. He'd seen nothing to suggest that the century between them had changed that much…

Something was wrong.

Madam Loren was the first he noticed it in: she extended her sword towards the Casino and simply stopped, lifeless and frozen. Her company did the same, some of them losing armaments in the process. He stopped in place, and watched, horrified, as the entire brilliancy came to a staggering, final halt facing the Casino. He ran, hoping that there was perhaps some time left.

"Sir Blanch-"

The White Knight- the real White Knight- was gone as well, before he'd even had a chance to apologize.

He stood there, alone, in the middle of a now useless army of the dead.

No, not useless.

He picked up a forgotten helmet and placed in back upon Sir Thom's head, before saluting sharply, before turning to take his place on the battle lines.

"Come out you cowards!" He cried, shaking his fist at the unseen enemies waiting within the walls. "Come and face the wrath of Asclepius!"

The Hearts could not have failed to notice and tremble at their arrival. And he was still armed, with sword and bow and arrow. He wouldn't run this time. He'd show the Queen exactly how a Knight fought.

**A/N: Inspiration for this piece has to go to Diabolicael's "Ever Wonder" fanfic, which is an excellent read if you're looking for one. I'd also like to thank all my reviewers, especially Rose of Zakarisz, who has been reviewing up a storm. **


	5. It Got Worse

_AKA: Why didn't Alice help Hatter when he went against the Suits? And why did she think he was dead?_

There were a lot of things she could do as a black belt. It didn't just mean having the capability to flip a man on his back without breaking a sweat; it meant have a physicality that lent itself to upper-body strength, and the discipline to see through otherwise daunting tasks. It did not, however, lend itself to escaping from handcuffs.

"There we go, nice and snug," said the Suit, smirking a little when Alice hissed against the sensation of loosing all the circulation in her hands. Alice sneered back, the expression almost involuntary. She recognized him: he was the one she'd dealt with on the roof of the Casino.

Suddenly, there were two gunshots, and Alice whipped around, almost unbalancing herself as she did so. Mad March stood over the bodies of the men who had gotten her father- her father!- out of the Casino. The man himself merely rolled his eyes.

"Was that really necessary?" Dad asked wearily.

Mad March snorted. "Stop complaining. If I hadn't done it now, the Queen would have done it later. Besides, did we really need them for information when we've got these two prizes?"

Jack went impossibly straighter at the mention of their fate, and Alice transferred her sneer from the Suit to the assassin.

"C'mon. Let's not keep Her Royal Uptightness waiting," March ordered, and the Suits began to escort them out, falling into what was obviously a standard formation. One of them grabbed Alice by the elbow, separating her from Jack. Her father was up ahead, indifferent to her presence; she tried to will some sort of remembrance into him from her eyes through the back of his head.

It didn't seem to be working very well. They marched out of the hospital with no incident, without the slightest flicker of recognition from the man her father had become.

And then Hatter arrived, riding a horse and swinging a sword like a knight is paisley and leather armor. It was perhaps the most wonderful, appalling thing she'd ever seen.

He managed to dispatch one of the Suits easily enough, but there were too many of them, swarming around him like insects, making it impossible to swing that sword properly. _Why doesn't he move?_ Alice thought, surging forwards against her captor, and failing to get free. _Why isn't he riding off? Why is he even here?_

"Charlie!" Hatter yelled, but there was no help coming. The Suits managed to pull him off the horse, and he landed on the ground with a sickening thud.

Alice's struggles intensified: so did the grip on her arm. "No! Get off him!"

Mad March sauntered out of the narrow alleyway they'd walked through not a moment before as the Suits took the sword and pinned him more securely to the ground.

"Hatter!" she yelled.

He didn't answer, looking up at March instead with something akin to horror in his eyes.

"What a nice surprise," Mad March said, artificial head cocked to a contemplative angle. Hatter jerked, grunting a little as he was restrained further. Alice stopped struggling as March advanced on him, and suddenly lashed out with a kick to the prone man's groin.

Hatter yelled in pain. March crouched down, some of the Suit shuffling out of the way to make room for him.

"I always knew you were playing for the other team," March said. "I don't suppose you'd feel like sharing a little bit of that information I know you deal in? Like where the Great Library is? Who some of the other bigwigs in the Resistance are?"

"Not to a man with a cookie jar for a head," Hatter ground out, earning him a fist in the face for his trouble.

"Although," Hatter panted. "It's definitely an improvement over your usual look."

March took off his hat, and placed it on his own head. Then he grabbed a fistful of Hatter's hair and used it to smash his head into the concrete. Hatter yelled again, blood welling up from multiple cuts on his head.

He lay on the ground, swearing, as March straightened up, porkpie hat still perched between his ears. "Anyone got another set of handcuffs?"

"Leave him alone," Alice said, jerking forwards again. She almost made it out of the Suits grasp, but at the last second his grip tightened and he pulled her back.

"Aw," March mocked. "Has Hatter got himself a sweetheart?"

Alice glared, willing the automaton to burst into flames with as much intensity as she'd willed her father to remember, and with just as much effect. One of the Suits handed March a pair of handcuffs, and then scrambled to help Hatter be secured in a position where they could be fastened on.

"You know what?" March said, as the cuffs clinked into place and Hatter snarled. "Why don't you take the three of them and go on ahead. This is going to take a while, I can already tell."

"I'm not calling another Scarab," the Club advised. "So don't keep the Queen waiting too long."

"Wouldn't dream of it," March replied sarcastically.

"No!" Alice said, as the Suits began to drag her away. She managed to catch glimpse of Hatter over her shoulder. He was doubled over, obviously having just taken a hit to the stomach. "Hatter! Hatter!"

The Suits nearly had to carry her to where the Scarab was waiting for them. Just before they began to stuff her inside one of those boxes, she heard the by now unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

She curled in a ball as the walls closed in around her. Her father didn't remember her- he didn't even remember himself. Jack was captured. The Resistance was perhaps fatally crippled. And Hatter was dead. Oh God…

It was several minutes before she heard the sound of March's footsteps outside her box, and then they were off to the Casino, and however much worse things could possibly get.


	6. Knights of the Old Republic

_AKA Why exactly did seeing the city of the Knights effect Hatter so much? _

Hatter was uncharacteristically silent and still as they made their way through the overgrown city. It was beginning to freak Alice out a little. Charlie was up ahead, keeping up a running commentary with himself, and after a few moments of watching his back go tighter and tighter with each hoofbeat she leaned forwards and whispered: "What's up?"

"A Rook, I think," Hatter replied absently, glancing upwards. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you seem very… un-Hatter, all of a sudden," Alice pointed out.

Hatter went still again for a moment, then looked at her over his shoulder. "My mother wanted to be a knight."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She would have been Madam Madeline Hatter, White Knight of the Realm of the Grand Chess Alliance," Hatter told her, tongue rolling over the title with a glimmer of his normal showmanship. "I got an old book of hers as an unbirthday present once. She'd written it all over the flyleaves."

He smiled slightly, a look that was made all the more sad by the way the late afternoon sunlight was hitting his hat, throwing half his face into shadow.

"Is she..?"

"Dead. Yeah. She didn't take Dad dying too well." He shrugged. "Suicide by Suit."

Alice winced.

"It's just strange, being here, that's all. In a kinder world, she might be up there singing 'hey nonny nonny' with Crazy Charlie right now," Hatter added, almost apologetically. "Hell, maybe I'll join in. A duet is just what we're missing, don't you think?"

Alice snorted. "That and a Cheshire Cat."

"Oh God," Hatter said, horrified. "Don't even joke."

Alice was about to ask why when Charlie suddenly said. "Best dismount. The path will be difficult to navigate on horseback shortly."

She wondered when he had stopped singing.

Hatter dismounted and held out a hand for her to steady herself with as she followed him off. Charlie unbridled the horses, while Hatter watched with interest. Alice was more concerned with the teetering pillar leaning against a tree.

"So this is it, then?" Hatter asked as Charlie finished shooing away the horses. "The legendary City of the Knights."

Charlie nodded, and started down a path so rocky and obscured she wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been walking on it, showing them the way. "Before the war with the Queen of Hearts, this was once the greatest city in the realm. The Red King and his elected council ruled Wonderland with the wisdom of the ages."

"And the Hearts destroyed everything?" Alice asked. Behind her, she could feel Hatter turning around, taking in all of the sights.

"We lived in harmony for a thousand years," Charlie lamented. "But when the Queen came to power, she just wanted to feel the good, not the bad."

Charlie walked off. Alice and Hatter followed. "Believe it or not," the old knight continued. "This used to be the throne room. Sadly, all that's left now is the throne."

They stopped for a moment, contemplating the string of laundry, bathing, and cooking supplies that littered the place where the Red King still sat, sword in hand and crown resting firmly on his brow. Charlie had obviously set up his main camp here, to be close to his King.

"Wow," she heard Hatter say softly.

"Yes well," Charlie said brightly. "We best begin to bunk down. We're going to be losing daylight shortly, and there is nothing I dislike more than stumbling about in the dark for more firewood. Harbinger, I assume you have some idea what firewood looks like?"

"Dead, dry trees?" Hatter replied.

"Precisely!" Charlie cried. "Now if we all spread out, we should be able to collect enough to keep the fire burning all night long before the sun goes down…"

Alice caught Hatter's eye as the old knight wandered away. He gave her an amused sort of smile, hiked his hat up a little bit higher on his head, and said "I suppose we should get to it, then."

"I'll go that way," Alice said, pointing in the opposite direction from Charlie.

"Don't get lost!"

Alice rolled her eyes and she walked away, but after a few moments turned around to make sure she could still see where camp was. Hatter was still standing there, shoulders hunched as he regarded the Red King.


End file.
